Gilgamesh, he took the axe in his hand and said, I am committed to this enterprise this industry, to cut down the cedar to leave behind me an enduring name for international demand has begun to grow rapidly. The forest stretches for ten thousand leagues in every direction—then it was so, upon all the earth, but Gilgamesh, he took the axe in his hand to fulfil vitally important supply and demand relationships. The hugeness of the cedar rose in front of the mountain. Its shade was beautiful, full of comfort; moisture, life. BUT they felled seven cedars, cut and bound the branches and laid them at the foot of the mountain, native forest for commercial harvest. Cleared their roots as far as the banks of Euphrates. No creek buffer left at all. For as far as two leagues the cedars shivered, saw the forests gone a million species at risk. Humbaba, god of the forest, heard the noise saw half the world’s forest gone. Enraged, he cried out, ‘Who is this that has violated my woods and cut down my cedar, removed all shelter, dried out the land?’ Daylight failed and darkness fell, lightnings flashed, fire blazed out a weird red light the darkest, darkest night at 9 am the clouds lowered, they rained down death, thousands of people trapped on the foreshore, dead birds at every step on the beach—black cockatoos, parrots, whipbirds, koalas screaming, over a billion animals incinerated, 12 million acres burnt all was turned to ashes fallen about us.
From: Vol.10 N.01 – Private: The Transformative Now
by Nola Firth